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I remained exactly where I was, my legs unwilling to take orders from my brain. Seconds later, I heard his intense exhale. The man was already annoyed with me. When he flipped on the decorative light I’d been so happy to find at secondhand store the day after I’d arrived in town, a slight wave of anger rushed into me. I was finally able to walk closer, noticing he’d made himself at home with my booze. How dare he?
“What gives you the right to break into my place and drink my liquor?”
My demand was met with the man lifting his glass, allowing me to hear the clinking of ice against the thin crystal before he consumed the entire contents. Then he leaned forward, placing the glass on the cheap table I’d brought with me. Even though he hadn’t used force, I flinched nonetheless, which he caught, lifting a single one of his dark eyebrows in response.
“Are you still frightened of me, moy malen’kiy ognennyy shar?” he asked.
“I don’t like people who aren’t who they say they are,” I retorted, instantly regretting it. I couldn’t expose the fact I knew who he was under any circumstances. I could only imagine what he’d do if he knew. “And don’t call me your fireball.” At least I remembered the phrase in Russian. Oh, God. What did it matter?
He leaned over, spreading his legs then easing his elbows against his knees. When he folded his hands, placing them under his chin, he took enough time doing so that I became lost in his eyes once again. “We’ve found something in common. What would you prefer I call you?”
“Anything but that.”
“Let’s start with your last name. That might enable me to determine what name would suit you.”
“Yours first.”
Kirill didn’t budge an inch, nor did he blink. He just kept his cold, hard stare directed on me. “Candy Lancaster,” I finally said. While I couldn’t be certain, it would appear he accepted my answer.
After a few seconds, he took a deep breath. “I will warn you, Candy Lancaster, that what we talk about tonight is considered private. You cannot repeat what you hear to anyone. Understand?”
It wasn’t a real question. I knew it. He knew it. “Of course.”
“Good. Also, as I mentioned last night, I will know if you lie to me.”
“As I told you, I don’t make a habit of lying.”
I still had my bag clenched so tightly in my hand that the strap was cutting into my skin. I could swear the man was reading my mind.
“Put your bag down, Candy, and come to me.”
God, I hated his authoritative attitude, but I did as he demanded, placing the bag on the floor and remembering I had a can of mace inside. What I hated the most was the effect his voice had on me. My panties were already soaked, the wetness sticky, a reminder of the way I’d felt after he’d filled me with his seed. When I was only a few feet away, he lifts his heated gaze, his glorious eyes piercing mine. Sadly, they seemed tortured tonight, as if his day had been rough.
I wondered what that meant for the rest of the world.
Even though I was wearing the same uniform he’d seen me in earlier as well as the night before, I felt naked around him tonight. The thought was far too arousing, my nipples aching more than they had since last night.
“Who do you belong to, Candy?”
Was this some kind of trick question? Was he expecting me to fawn over him like a chicklet, gushing that he owned me? Not a chance. “I don’t belong to anyone.”
He took another deep breath, and I could sense he was losing his patience. “Who are your parents?”
The question would ordinarily seem out of the blue except for the oddity of a portion of our limited conversation the night before. Fine. I’d play his game. Then I’d ask him to leave. As a wave of scalding heat flushed my face, I knew I’d just told myself a lie. “My parents are Mallory and Robert Lancaster.”
“And where are you from?”
“Pennsylvania. Born and raised in a little town. Why?”
“Because I need to ascertain if you’re a threat.”
At least he’d finally told me something concrete. I thought about Sean’s words all over again. The Irish and the Russians didn’t get along. What horror stories did Michael Walsh have to tell me? Maybe it was best that I left that side of my family out of the conversation. “I don’t know how I could be a threat to anyone.”
“Why are you in New York?”
“Why are you in New York? You’re obviously from another country.” Nice, Candy. Insult the man.
He lifted his head for a few seconds, his eyes flashing. “I’m here because I have no family left in Russia. They were killed and I was orphaned.”
